


a sense of limerence

by crunchrapsupreme



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Prostate Massage, Self Confidence Issues, chubby!yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8715583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crunchrapsupreme/pseuds/crunchrapsupreme
Summary: “So, do you like to skate, Yuuri?” Victor asks, retracting his hand.Yuuri flushes and ducks his head. “Ah - I’ve actually never ice skated in my life.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> me @ myself: hey i should write another yoi fic  
> me: but.... make it an au where yuuri actually doesnt know how to fuckin skate  
> me: and make him chubby again  
> me: fluff and smut?  
> me @ myself: always
> 
> \--
> 
> so yea i shat this fic out in like 2 days and it doesnt have much substance really but if ur looking for something mindless with Loads of fluff and a lil bit of sex than this is the fic for u

It took Yuuri a while to get used to the chill of the rink, but now it’s become a feeling he doesn’t even notice anymore. The cold on the tip of his nose, fingerless gloves becoming less of a bother, and the fact that he double-layers his socks inside his boots has become much less noticeable too. He’s incredibly thankful for his close friend Yuuko for getting him the job, and though working at the rental desk at a public ice skating rink isn’t the most luxurious job, it’s helping him get through university and that’s all that matters.

A couple walks up to the counter, and Yuuri puts on his best customer service smile as he helps them get their skates. He’s heard that skates run a half size big, so he tells them to think smaller with their sizing, though Yuuri hasn’t once ever put on a pair of skates so he’s not sure if that statement is even true or not. Yuuko is the one who mentioned it to him once, and the customers seem to take it to heart so he supposes it all works out.

Yuuko bounds up to the counter after the couple heads to the rink with their skates, and Yuuri grins at her in greeting.

“Good morning!” She says, leaning on the counter with entirely too much energy for eleven am on a Sunday.

“Hello, Yuuko-san, how were classes this morning?” Yuuri asks, and Yuuko makes a face at him. The teacher for the intermediate level figure skating classes quit a few weeks ago, and Yuuko has been taking over until she’s been able to find a new one. It’s taking a toll on her though, with her daughters in school now, and full-time managing the ice rink, and now _teaching_ on top of it, but her face isn’t as downtrodden as Yuuri’s expecting, and he raises an eyebrow when she takes a breath.

“Hopefully I won’t be filling in much longer. I _think_ I’ve found someone to replace Daiki-san!” She looks hopeful, and Yuuri smiles, happy that she’ll finally be able to rest again. He can see the weariness in her face, and he desperately wishes he was as talented as her with ice skating so he could offer to teach the class himself.

“That’s great! When do they start?” Yuuri asks, nodding to a group of teenagers as they place their skates on the counter to return. He grabs the first pair, pulling out the rag he keeps in his back pocket, and quickly wipes the ice and residue off the blades of the skates.

“Hopefully very, very soon. I’ve spoken with him twice already, and I have one final interview with him today, but I’m almost positive he’s going to take the job.” She grins, and bounces on her feet excitedly. “He used to be a professional figure skater, but he had to quit a few years ago for personal reasons. He sounded really excited to be able to teach!”

Yuuri hums, vaguely curious, but he looks up suddenly when the doors swing open, and a tall, strikingly handsome man walks in. He’s wearing a pair of sunglasses, and he looks entirely too high-fashion for a place like a public skating rink, but when he sees Yuuko at the counter, he smiles and takes off his sunglasses, waving them in the air.

“Ah, hello! I’m a bit early, I’m afraid,” the man says sheepishly, walking over to the rental counter. Yuuko smiles and reaches out, shaking his hand firmly and professionally.

“Victor!” She says happily, “It’s good to see you again!”

Yuuri watches the exchange as he cleans another pair of returned skates, and he tries not to stare at the man on the other side of the counter. He’s so polished looking, yet he comes off as incredibly friendly, and his hair is soft as it falls over one eye. He watches a leather-gloved hand flick the hair out of his face, and he doesn’t notice that the conversation has stopped until Victor turns to look at him with a curious gaze. Yuuri swallows, but luckily Yuuko saves him the embarrassment of an awkward exchange.

“Yuuri! This is Victor Nikiforov,” she starts, reaching across the counter to pinch Yuuri’s cheek. “And Victor, this is Yuuri, a very good friend of mine. He’s in charge of the rental counter, so his face will be the first face you see when you walk in the doors if you decide to accept the job.”

“Hm,” Victor says, reaching across the counter and holding out a hand, “I can’t say I’d complain too much about that, I suppose.”

And then he _winks_ , he honest-to-god winks, and Yuuri _almost_ forgets to reach out his own hand to shake Victor’s. The taller man’s grip is firm and confident, and Yuuri feels a little self conscious in his tattered fingerless gloves, but Victor doesn’t seem to mind.

“So, do you like to skate, Yuuri?” Victor asks, retracting his hand.

Yuuko laughs out loud and reaches over to ruffle Yuuri’s hair like the mother-hen she is, and Yuuri flushes and glares at her before turning back to Victor, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah - I’ve actually never ice skated in my life.”

Victor raises his eyebrows in surprise. “An employee at an ice rink, and you’ve not once stepped foot on the playing field?”

Yuuri shrugs, only a little embarrassed. Yuuko got him the job at the rental counter, and she reassured him he didn’t need to know a thing about actual ice skating to be able to rent out skates. Though, he has learned a little bit in his year working here, and he knows a little bit of the mechanics from listening to Yuuko talk about it and occasionally watching the classes from the stands.

But he still has never set foot on the ice, and his clumsy nature tells him it probably wouldn’t be a very good idea for him.

“Anyways, come with me,” Yuuko says after a moment, grinning quickly at Yuuri’s blushing face before turning back to Victor, and oh, she’s going to tease him so _bad_ once Victor’s gone. “The office is over here, and we can go through some more paperwork and see if this job is the fit for you.”

“I’m quite certain already that it’s the perfect fit,” Victor says to Yuuko, but his eyes are still lingering on Yuuri, and the shorter boy quickly turns around to put a pair of skates away, the back of his neck prickling with Victor’s gaze, and he doesn’t turn back around until he hears their footsteps walk away.

* * *

 

“Oh, Yuuri, isn’t he _wonderful!”_ Yuuko sighs happily, flipping through her keyring as they close up for the night, walking towards the front doors to lock up. “His first class is on Tuesday, and he’s already planned out his itinerary. He’s going to be a _perfect_ replacement.”

Yuuri genuinely is happy for Yuuko, and he’s incredibly glad she’s found a replacement instructor, but he also can’t help the nervous squirm deep down in his belly at the thought of Victor, and seeing Victor so _often_ . Yuuri’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, and he gets infatuated very easily, and he’s not sure how good it will be to _already_ be crushing on the new figure skating instructor.

“Plus,” Yuuko says, as if reading his thoughts. “He’s _super_ cute, right?”

“Yuuko-san, you’re _married_ ,” Yuuri says in response, and Yuuko just laughs.

“I can still appreciate physical aesthetic!” She says as they head out the front doors, and she turns to lock the rink up once they’re outside.

They say goodbye to each other, and Yuuri heads to the bus station, his school bag slung across his shoulders. He usually goes to the rink to work straight after class, and it’s not all bad because sometimes during the week, when it’s slow and there’s not much to do, Yuuko will let him do his homework behind the counter. He’s actually more motivated to get his work done at the rink then he ever is at home.

He arrives at his small, quaint little apartment, and when he walks inside, his roommate, Phichit, is sprawled on the couch, hair pushed back with a few clips as he stares down at his work.

He looks up when Yuuri closes the door, and waves at hims distractedly before glancing back down at his notebook. “Yuuri, welcome home! How was work?”

Yuuri shrugs off his bag and goes to plop down on the couch next to Phichit. “It was alright. Um, Yuuko-san hired a new intermediate instructor.”

“Oh, that’s good, right?” Phichit says, looking up and seeing Yuuri biting his lip in thought.

“Sort of?” Yuuri sighs, and scrubs a hand over his face, and it’s then that Phichit understands, and a slow smile graces his face as he nudges Yuuri with his elbow.

“ _Oh_ , he’s cute, huh?”

“Shut up, he’s…. he’s _decent_ looking, okay?” Yuuri whines, burying his face in his hands again. “I don’t even know him!”

“You’re so easily captivated,” Phichit teases, and Yuuri groans because it’s _true_. Maybe it’s because his last real relationship wasn’t very long, and it was more than two years ago. Maybe he’s just lonely, and sick of the dating game he hardly even participates in.

Whatever it is, Yuuri can’t get Victor Nikiforov’s face out of his damn head for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

Yuuri yawns as he walks into the doors of the rink, rubbing his eyes roughly as he makes his way into the back room to set down his stuff. He had two lectures today, and he didn’t get much sleep the night before. His shift for work doesn’t start for another hour, but he didn’t want to trek all the way back home only to have to immediately turn around and come back to the rink. He decides to do some class reading while he waits for his shift to start, and he grabs his bag and heads out to the rink.

He finds it refreshing, sitting in the stands. It’s much colder than at the rental counter, but the airy feeling is nice, and Yuuri finds watching the skaters to be relaxing. Young and inexperienced, free skate for the public, or private training, it doesn’t matter. He finds it all intriguing, and sometimes he pictures himself on the ice, also. It’s an elegant beauty, figure skating is, and Yuuri can’t really see himself with the natural flow that some of the skaters he watches have.

He’s fine just watching, though. Being a spectator is what he does best, really.

There’s a small beginner’s class in one corner of the rink, a handful of young skaters shakily learning how to conquer their balance, and Yuuri smiles to himself, but then his eyes widen and his back straightens up as he sees none other than Victor slipping onto the ice. Aside from the small beginner’s class, the other half of the rink is empty, and Victor waves to the group briefly, saying something that Yuuri can’t hear before motioning to the empty half of the rink. The other instructor laughs and nods before turning back to his students, and Yuuri watches curiously as Victor glides around.

It’s as if he’s feeling out the ice beneath his feet. He’s dressed in a pair of tight fitting sweats, and a loose sweater, and his cheeks are already turning pink from the cold, but then he widens his stance, closes his eyes briefly, and begins to skate.

And it’s absolutely breathtaking.

Even the small class on the other side of the rink has paused their tasks in order to watch in awe as Victor melts across the ice like he belongs here. Yuuko wasn’t lying when she said he was a professional, and Yuuri’s never seen anybody move like that before. Victor’s body is fluid and graceful, confident and sure, and when he winds his arms around himself, spinning fast and expertly, Yuuri finds his mouth has gone dry, and he’s leaning so far forward in his seat he’s about to topple over.

Victor does a few more casual jumps and spins, and soon he’s laughing and skating over to the beginner’s class, kneeling down to their level as they exclaim and wave their arms, most likely gushing about how _amazing_ he did, and how they aspire to be that good one day.

Yuuri can’t take his eyes off of Victor’s grinning face, though, and when the older man stands up and turns slightly, catching Yuuri’s gaze, his eyes widen in surprise and he waves happily.

“Yuuri!” He calls out, and oh god, he caught him _staring_ , like a creep, and Yuuri can feel his blush crawl up his neck as Victor steps off the ice and grabs his blade guards from the bench, slipping them on as he heads towards where Yuuri is sitting, unforgotten textbook in his hand.

“Victor, hi,” Yuuri says once Victor’s close enough, and he stiffens slightly when Victor takes a seat next to him on the bench. “Your first class isn’t until tomorrow, right? I’m surprised you’re here today.”

Victor shrugs and pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I haven’t skated in a few months, I wanted to get a feel for the ice again before I made a fool of myself in front of my students.”

He laughs slightly, and Yuuri can’t help it when he blurts out, “You were amazing, just now.”

Victor catches his gaze, surprised but pleased, and he grins in thanks. “Thank you, Yuuri.”

“I… I’ve never seen anyone move like that before,” Yuuri explains further, and his brain is telling him to shut up now while he still has his dignity, but his heart has other plans, and Yuuri’s gushing out more without thinking, “It was beautiful, Victor, you… you looked _really_ beautiful.”

The smallest flush flashes across Victor’s cheeks, and Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to catch it if they weren’t sitting so close. Victor rubs the back of his neck, his grin softening as he leans forward, slightly closer to Yuuri, and the younger man swallows, clutching his textbook closer to his chest.

“You seem highly fascinated,” Victor points out, and then he’s waving his arm towards the rink. “Have you ever considered trying it out?”

“Ah!” Yuuri exclaims, shaking his head quickly, “ _No_ , no, I’m super clumsy, I’m sure I wouldn’t be - ”

“It’s okay to be nervous about trying something new,” VIctor says softly, but then he stands up, brushing off the back of his pants as he smiles warmly down at Yuuri once more. “You should let me take you on the ice one day. I wouldn’t let you fall, I promise.”

He waves at Yuuri once more before slipping back on the ice, and Yuuri glances down at his watch, making a panicked noise as he sees his shift starts in five minutes and he’s not even at the rental counter yet. He scrambles up, slamming his text book closed, and bustles out of the rink area without looking back at Victor.

* * *

  

“Phichit,” Yuuri asks one night, watching as the younger man bustles around in the kitchen, making dinner for them both. “Have you ever been ice skating before?”

“A few times,” he responds, cutting up some onions, sniffling almost comically, and Yuuri covers his mouth on a laugh. “When I was younger, and then about a year ago a girl took me on a date to an ice rink. She thought it would be ‘romantic’ or something.”

“Ah,” Yuuri says, fidgeting a bit before seating himself at the table. “Was it?”

“Hm?”

“Romantic, I mean. Was it?” Yuuri asks, trying to be casual, but his shaky voice betrays him because Phichit shoots him an amused look before going back to his chopping.

“I guess it sort of was, in a way. Neither of us were very good skaters, so it was kind of hard, but because of that we had to hold hands the entire time so neither of us would fall,” he says, and then he’s dumping the chopping board full of diced onions onto the skillet before turning back to Yuuri with a sly look. “I imagine it would’ve been _much_ more romantic if at least one of us knew how to skate, though, you know?”

Yuuri flushes and stands up, reaching up to adjust his glasses on his face. “A-Anyways, do you need help with dinner?”

Phichit laughs. “Come here, help me chop some carrots and we can talk about your existential love crisis.”

“I don’t have a love crisis!” Yuuri wails, but he trudges over and rolls up his sleeves, standing next to Phichit to chop some vegetables.

Him and Phichit have known each other since high school, and they became fast friends. Phichit was the new kid who just transferred in as a first year, and Yuuri was a third year, but they ended up meeting during some extracurricular activity and found out they lived a mere five minute walk from each other’s houses. It was an easy friendship to fall into, and then after Yuuri went off to university, Phichit got accepted to the same one a year later. Yuuri was living alone in his tiny campus apartment, and happily offered a place for Phichit to stay with him. It was lonely, living by yourself, and the apartment was much closer to the university than their houses were, so having Phichit move in was like a light in Yuuri’s bleak, _school-work-sleep-repeat_ lifestyle.

For example, Yuuri never really cooked good, homemade meals for himself. Between work and school, he was tired and lazy and usually just ended up stopping somewhere for something instant or store bought. He’s gained a bit of weight since starting college, but at least he doesn’t eat _as_ bad these days, with Phichit cooking them both delicious meals at least a few times a week.

“So,” Phichit says, stirring the vegetables currently in the skillet as Yuuri chops up some more carrots. “You’ve taken a sudden interest in skating recently, haven’t you?”

“No,” Yuuri says, and then he grumbles and averts his eyes down to his cutting board. “Kind of. I don’t know. Victor, the new instructor… he says he wants to teach me how?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

Yuuri sighs. “A statement, I guess. I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to make an idiot of myself.”

“He knows your nonexistent skill level, Yuuri. He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want to show you how.” Phichit grins, then, and nudges Yuuri in the side. “It kinda sounds like he might have ulterior motives.”

Yuuri blushes down to his toes. “ _What?”_

“Hear me out!” Phichit says, grabbing some of the chopped up carrots off of Yuuri’s cutting board and throwing them in the pan. “He’s offering for _free_ , right? Why would a professional skater offer to have a private, one-on-one class with someone completely inexperienced, without getting paid for it?”

“I… don’t know,” Yuuri mumbles, feeling his chest tighten up. Maybe Victor _does_ just want to spend time with him? Who knows, but the hopeful thought has bloomed into something greater, and Yuuri can’t help but bite his lip on a smile at the thought of Victor wanting to spend that private time together, just them. Phichit is right. It does seem a little strange for someone to offer a free lesson to a stranger with no prior experience, unless they just genuinely _wanted_ to do it.

“Who knows, maybe ice skating is his own way of _seduction_ ,” Phichit says idly, and Yuuri groans and throws a piece of carrot at him, the warm feeling in his chest settling down to something of a simmer.

* * *

 

The days turn into weeks, and the weeks drag on, and between work, school, and _Victor_ , it’s as if the time passes in a blur. Victor makes sure to chat with him every time he’s breaking from a skating class, and Yuuri often finds himself sitting on the benches by the rink during his own breaks to watch Victor teach.

He’s very patient, if a little unorthodox in his teaching methods, but the students seem to love him. Well, except for one student, the youngest in the intermediate class. Yuuri finds himself smiling to himself at the constant bickering of the two, even though it’s mostly just the kid yelling profanities at Victor and Victor rolling his eyes and making him skate laps backwards as punishment.

Yuuri can see that VIctor sees potential in the younger skater, though, if the determined look in Victor’s eyes is anything to go by. Victor had told him once that he didn’t believe in favorites, but Yuuri has a feeling that Victor has a soft spot for the young blonde skater.

Sometimes Yuuri will watch his classes and have this weird, strange urge to try it, to take up Victor’s offer to teach him, but the feeling passes as soon as it came. Yuuri’s not athletic. He’s clumsy and pudgy and not nearly as graceful as Victor is, or any of the other skaters for that matter. He knows deep down Victor would have faith in him, but how can Yuuri step on the ice if he doesn’t even have faith in himself?

Victor continues to pester him about it, though, and Yuuri finds himself politely turning him down most of the time. He tries to drag it out, though, because he _likes_ talking to Victor. He’s interesting and boyish and soft with his words (well, most of the time), and Yuuri finds himself addicted to listening to Victor talk. Talk about his competitions in skating, and all of the different costumes he’s worn, the countries he’s been to. His life sounds _extravagant_ , and Yuuri finds himself longing to feel that freedom, that newness, and to learn more.

He’s excited to graduate and start his life, sure, but he wants something unexpected to happen, something unpredictable and crazy and _exhilarating_ , and he’s not sure what that’s going to be yet, but he can feel it building, ready to pop like a bubble inside his chest.

* * *

 

Yuuri yawns as he leans his chin in the palm of his hand, tapping his pencil against the counter as he drones on with his work sheet. It’s a Monday afternoon, terribly slow at the rink, and though Yuuri didn’t have a class this morning, he still feels all sorts of exhausted, and the words of his text are blurring together, making it harder and harder to concentrate.

A hand snatches his pencil away all of a sudden, and Yuuri jumps and looks up, eyes wide, but then his expression calms and he’s rolling his eyes when he sees Victor standing before him, twirling his pencil in one gloved hand.

“Yuuri, what are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the counter. Yuuri reaches over, attempting to snatch the pencil, but Victor holds it out of his reach.

“I’m studying,” Yuuri says, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in school. What are you going for?”

He sounds… _genuinely_ interested, and Yuuri swallows because it’s strange enough that someone is interested in _him_ , let alone his boring education also.

“I’m in finance, actually,” Yuuri says, and he hates saying it outloud because it sounds so _blah_ , but he can’t help that he genuinely does enjoy numbers. It’s a low-anxiety field, with minimal stress, and he finds the work pleasant and knows that he won’t mind doing it as a career.

“Wow, so you go to school full time _and_ work here? How exhausting!”

Yuuri rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, it can get pretty overwhelming. Luckily Yuuko-san lets me do homework here, when it’s slow like this...”

It’s an open ended statement, because Yuuri’s staring at his pencil so hard he can feel Victor’s amusement, and Victor dangles the pencil above Yuuri’s head teasingly, smiling at him.

“It’s nice and slow right now, yeah?” he says, and Yuuri watches nervously as his pencil disappears into the pocket of Victor’s jacket. “The ice rink is completely empty.”

Yuuri _gets it_ suddenly, and he flails a bit. “Ah, Yuuko-san would never - !”

“C’mon, we can see the front doors from the rink! We’ll just keep an eye out if anyone walks in, okay? I’m sure Yuuko wouldn’t mind if you took a little break.”

“I’m... on the clock,” Yuuri says quietly, but Victor’s looking at him so eagerly, and Yuuri can’t deny that he’s been sort of thinking about skating with Victor ever since the older man brought it up that day at the rink. He has no idea what he would be getting into, but he’s been thinking a lot about what Phichit said, about ulterior motives and _seduction_ , and his words have been lingering in Yuuri’s mind every night since.

“Just for a little bit. It’ll be fun, I promise!” Victor says, slowly shutting Yuuri’s textbook, and Yuuri sighs, finally resigning himself because Victor’s right, it _is_ pretty slow right now. The likelihood that anyone will walk in within the next thirty minutes is pretty slim, and Yuuri zips up his jacket, squaring Victor with a look as he nods.

“Okay, but just remember,” Yuuri says, and there’s a slight teasing note to his voice, one that even _he_ doesn’t recognize as he says, “I have no idea what I’m doing, Victor.”

Victor’s smile morphs in a smirk and he nods towards the racks of skates behind Yuuri. “Go ahead and grab your size, and I’ll meet you by the rink to help you put them on.”

Victor waltz’s away, probably to go grab his own skates, and Yuuri turns around, hoping the whole ‘runs a size big’ saying is true. He grabs a pair of skates, and briefly considers texting Yuuko to tell her what he’s doing. He knows she won’t mind though. She’s always wanted Yuuri to try ice skating, being so good at it herself, so if anything she’d be ecstatic that he’s taking a little bit of time out of his shift to give it a try. Having Victor as his teacher would probably make her even _more_ happy, to be honest.

When he walks into the rink area, he sees Victor tying up his skates, and when he’s finished he stands up and motions Yuuri closer, waving to the bench.

“Take a seat, I’ll help you tie your skates!”

Yuuri shuffles forward, already sort of regretting agreeing to this. He glances back at the front doors briefly, and no one’s walked in so he takes a seat finally, toeing off his boots and awkwardly sitting there as Victor loosens up the laces. It’s strange, having Victor on his knees in front of him, and Yuuri tries to ignore the heat radiating off his cheeks.

“One common problem a lot of people have when tying skates, is they only tighten about a third of the laces,” Victor says, taking Yuuri’s ankle in one hand and slipping the skate on. He does the same to Yuuri’s other foot, and then he takes each length of lace, pulling tight enough to almost hurt, until he’s tightened all the way up the boot, and he finishes off at Yuuri’s ankle. “Does that feel tight enough?”

Yuuri winces as he turns his ankle slightly. It doesn’t _hurt_ , but it is almost uncomfortably tight. It doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere, though, so he nods to Victor and watches as his long, nimble fingers go to work on the other skates, tightening and tying them up efficiently, as if he’s done this a thousand times.

Which, Yuuri supposes, he guesses is probably true.

Victor stands up, and holds out his hands with a smile. “Okay, let’s head to the ice.”

Yuuri almost tries to stand up on his own, but as soon as he’s an inch off the bench, he immediately grabs for Victor’s hands with a quiet gasp. Standing with two thin blades on the bottoms of your shoes is strange, and a little unbalancing, and Victor chuckles quietly.

“Alright, now I’m going to walk us to the ice. Just take it slow as you get used to the skates, okay?”

Yuuri swallows shakily. “Victor, this is a _horrible_ idea.”

“You’ll be fine!” He reassures, and then he’s letting Yuuri cling to his arm as they shuffle their way slowly to the rink’s opening. Victor steps on the ice, and turns towards Yuuri with one hand outstretched. “Okay, this is the hardest part, getting on the ice. Use the wall for some support, and take my hand.”

Yuuri wants to turn around, to turn back and tug off these stupid skates before he falls flat on his face, but Victor looks so inviting, jacket zipped up to his chin and his hair falling over one eye as he waits for Yuuri to make his move. Yuuri takes a deep breath, _fuck it_ , and takes Victor’s hand, using his other hand to hold onto the wall. He places a skate on the ice, and almost immediately slides forward.

Victor darts forward, placing a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and pulling gently, just enough that Yuuri’s other skate makes it onto the ice, and then he’s pulling, pulling more, and Yuuri makes a noise as his fingers slip off the wall. Victor takes both of Yuuri’s hands in his own, pulling him to the middle of the rink, and Yuuri’s legs tremble as he tries to keep balance, letting himself be pulled across the ice.

“V-Victor,” Yuuri manages, his voice strained as his skates click together. His hands are death grips on Victor’s own, and Victor keeps staring at him, with this happy, fond look on his face, and Yuuri feels himself flush as the front of his skates knock into Victors. “I’m going to fall if you let go of me...”

“Than I won’t let go,” Victor says softly, “I can teach you the basics another day. Today, I just want you to get a feel for the ice. Feel it under your skates, try to center your balance, okay?”

Yuuri makes a small noise of concentration, his eyes glued down to his skates, and when he turns his head to push his glasses up with his shoulder, his skates slip a bit. Yuuri gasps as he’s pitched forward, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he falls into Victor’s chest, nose buried in his jacket and his hands gripping Victor’s hips for support. Victor’s arms have come up, one hand at his waist, the other gripping his arm, and he chuckles again.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

The words send a warmth down Yuuri’s spine, and he finally lets himself look up, finding Victor staring down at him with those twinkling blue eyes, and his lips look so _soft_ and they’re standing so, so close. Yuuri’s eyes keep darting down to his mouth, and Victor _has_ to notice, Yuuri’s being so incredibly obvious.

“Yuuri,” Victor says, his voice almost too quiet to make out, and there’s something in between them that Yuuri can’t place. It’s there, though, he can feel it in every fiber of his being, but soon he’s crossing his skates again, stumbling forward ungracefully against Victor, and Victor laughs, helping Yuuri regain his balance once more.

“Here, you have to widen your stance a bit more and bend your legs a bit. You’re too stiff, and you keep wanting to cross your feet.”

Victor is incredibly patient, waiting as Yuuri moves inch by inch until his legs are parted a little wider, and when he’s done, he looks up eagerly at Victor, as if asking for approval that he’s done it right, and when Victor nods at him happily, Yuuri’s insides squirm contently.

“Now,” Victor says, “I’m going to let go, now, and you’re going to skate towards me, okay?’

 _“What_?” Yuuri blurts out, his hold tightening on Victor’s hands. “You said you weren’t going to let go!”

“You have to trust me, Yuuri,” Victor says, staking backwards slowly, but instead of pulling Yuuri with him, his hands are slipping out of the younger man’s hold. He can’t very well _pull_ _back_ , or else they’ll both go toppling onto the ice, and so Yuuri has to let Victor’s hands slip free, and soon he’s a few feet away, Yuuri’s legs trembling like a newborn deer as he holds his arms out to the side to stay balanced.

“Victor, come _back.”_ Yuuri whines, getting visions of himself face planting the ice and breaking his nose.

“Keep your stance bent forward a little, and use your weight to skate forward. Keep both of your skates on the ice the whole time, don’t try and walk like you’re on ground.” Victor holds out his hands, nodding encouragingly. “I’m only a few feet away, come on, you can do it!”

There’s blood rushing through Yuuri’s ears, muting the sounds of anything other other than his own breathing and Victor’s encouraging words trying to coax him closer, and Yuuri takes a deep breath as he looks up at Victor from his feet, sliding forward one of his skates and loosening his stance, attempting to keep balance as he slowly, so slowly, shuffles his way across the few feet of the space between him and Victor.

It takes a while, much too long in Yuuri’s opinion, but Victor never rushes him, and in the last few moments, he makes it to Victor, his hands fumbling to hold on, and when he looks up he finds himself _grinning_ in awe, wide and bright as he says,

“Victor! I _did_ it! Did you see - ”

Yuuri gets a little too excited in his exclamation and accidentally picks a skate off the ice, and once again he’s flailing, but this time he’s falling _backwards_ , and his arms shoot out to the side but there’s nothing to grab onto and oh _god_ , he’s going to fall back and hit his head and get a concussion or split his skull open, he’s going to _die_ -

Yuuri’s eyes are squeezed shut, but he gasps and they shoot open when Victor’s skates scrape the ice, and before he knows it, Yuuri’s being caught around his back, another hand gripping his own and holding tight, and Yuuri suddenly recognizes the hold as a classic ballroom dance’s dip.

Yuuri’s breathing heavily, and his eyes stray up to Victor’s in utter surprise, and Victor’s smiling down at him, reassuringly.

“I used to do couples skating. I’m used to quickly catching my partner on the ice.”

The words ring in Yuuri’s head in a daze, and he finds himself blushing, averting his eyes as Victor stands him upright again. Victor keeps his hands on Yuuri’s waist, though, and Yuuri finds himself gripping the front of Victor’s jacket, their bodies stock still pressed against each other, and Yuuri lets out a breath and lets his forehead fall against Victor’s chest.

“This is happening, right?” Yuuri says, because this time, what’s happening between them is completely unmistakeable. And though Yuuri’s not dated much in his life at all, he knows tension when he sees it, and the air between them isn’t normal, or _just friends_.

Victor reaches up after a moment, carding a hand through Yuuri’s hair almost hesitantly as he murmurs, “I’m glad you agreed to come onto the ice with me.”

“I’m glad you didn’t let me fall,” Yuuri says, calming down a tad as he pulls away from Victor’s chest. They’re still standing in the middle of the ice, and Victor grins down at him, reaching up a hand to cup the side of his face.

“We still have to skate back to the edge. You could fall between here and there, you know.”

“I’d like to think you wouldn’t let that happen,” Yuuri breathes, and he keeps arching _closer_ , tilting his chin up, and Victor is angling his head also, and Yuuri makes a noise when their lips _finally_ touch.

Yuuri lets his arms wind around Victor’s shoulders, and when his skates slide a little dangerously, Victor just holds him closer, arms wrapping tightly around his waist, pressing into his lower back. Victor’s nose is cold where it presses against Yuuri’s face, but his lips are warm, his mouth even _warmer_ , and Yuuri makes a noise when Victor licks into his mouth briefly before pulling away, pressing their foreheads together instead.

“I think…” Victor says, his voice a mere wisp of air as his eyes dart to the space behind Yuuri. “I think a family just walked in.”

Yuuri gasps and goes to spin around, losing balance completely, but luckily Victor keeps a hold on him once again, preventing him from falling, and the older man laughs as he skates both of them to the edge. He quickly helps Yuuri untie his skates, and Yuuri’s darting to the rental counter in just his socks, not even bothering to grab his shoes and shove them on. Victor rolls his eyes as he grabs Yuuri’s shoes for him, and he watches as Yuuri greets the family and gets them their sizes. He’s much shorter without the skates on, and Victor smiles as he watches Yuuri stand on his toes to grab a pair of skates to hand to the family. Cute.

Yuuri looks up after he’s given the family their rentals, and he finds Victor walking towards him, boots in hand.

“We should do that again, sometime,” Victor says, placing Yuuri’s boots on the counter.

“Th-the skating…? Or the...” Yuuri trails off, face as red as a tomato, and Victor laughs and reaches over to brush his knuckles across a round, soft cheek.

“Both, if you’d like,” VIctor says. “But.. maybe no more kissing on the ice, until you get a little more balanced, yeah?”

Yuuri pushes his glasses up with a huff, but he’s grinning slightly, and that’s enough of an answer for Victor.

* * *

 

“Phichit, he _kissed me!”_

Phichi jumps and looks up as Yuuri bangs into the apartment, skidding to a halt in front of the couch. He’s practically glowing, and he’s panting, like he ran all the way from the bus stop here. It’s then that Yuuri’s words sink in, and Phichit’s eyes widen comically.

“He _what?!”_

“He took me ice skating! And then we _kissed_!”

“Seems kind of sudden, doesn’t it?” Phichit says, but he’s grinning and patting the space next to him on the couch, and Yuuri all but falls onto the cushions with a sigh.

“Maybe?” He says, and then he’s sighing again. “It felt.. It felt _right_ , Phichit. I don’t know. I think I… I think I _really_ like him.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it sounds like he really likes you too,” Phichit says, and Yuuri’s eyes widen suddenly, sitting up on the couch.

“We haven’t even exchanged numbers yet!”

And then, as if some magnetic force has attached itself to his words, his phone buzzes in his hand, and looks down to see an unfamiliar number.

 **_unknown_ ** **_:_ ** _Yuuri! It’s Victor! I asked Yuuko to give me your number :3_

He must have been thinking the same thing as Yuuri, and the thought makes Yuuri grin like a lunatic, huddling up on the couch as he messages back.

 **_Yuuri_ ** _: hi victor… i hope yuuko didn’t give you too much trouble_

 **_Victor_ ** _: she did tease me a bit when i called her and asked ;~;_

Victor’s use of emoticons makes Yuuri bite his lip on a grin, and he jumps when Phichit snorts at him.

“Absolutely disgusting,” Phichit says, but his voice is fond as he smiles to himself, going back to his reading

 **_Victor:_ ** _I know this may seem sudden, but I would love to take you out on a proper date! will you let me?_

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, clenching his toes in the couch cushions. “He wants to take me on a date….”

Phichit shuts his book and scoots closer to Yuuri, and Yuuri angles his phone a bit so Phichit can read the message. When Phichit looks back up at Yuuri, the boy is practically _glowing_ , and Phichit smiles because he hasn’t seen Yuuri look this excited about something in a long, long time.

“You really like him, yeah?” he asks, and Yuuri’s nodding before Phichit even finishes the sentence. Phichi laughs a little. “Than say yes! When’s the last time you went on a date, Yuuri?”

Yuuri scratches the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t… I don’t know. Just, he’s so _hot,_ Phichit, and I’m - ”

 _“Also_ hot, you idiot,” Phichit interrupts, and Yuuri sighs and bites at his thumbnail as he stares down at his phone. “C’mon, I can see you really want to say yes.”

“I do,” Yuuri sighs eventually, pressing his phone to his lips and staring at the ground determinedly. “I really do, Phichit.”

Phichit nods once, nudging Yuuri in the side before sliding to the other end of the couch again. “C’mon, shoot him a text back, and then let’s watch a movie. I’ll order some take out!”

Yuuri bites his lip on a smile, his fingers tapping away at his phone screen.

 **_Yuuri_ ** _: id love to go on a date_

A text comes back almost immediately.

 **_Victor_ ** _: fantastic! how about a romantic date to the ice skating rink? ;)_

Yuuri laughs, and he feels the anxious bubble in his chest finally release with a ‘ _pop’_.

* * *

 

“I’ve never been to a food festival like this before,” Yuuri comments, rocking back on his heels a little nervously. “The food looks really nice.”

 _“You_ look really nice,” Victor says happily, tugging gently at the scarf wound around Yuuri’s neck. It’s a dark plaid, warm and cozy looking, and Yuuri can feel his cheeks flush a bit, ducking his head with a smile.

It’s been…. _god_ , an awful long time since Yuuri’s been on an actual date, let alone felt the need to visually and verbally impress someone so intensely. He tried to find his nicest clothes (with Phichit’s help), and he thinks they did a pretty good job. Between school and work, Yuuri generally tends to dress more comfortable and not particularly stylish, unlike VIctor who always seems to be in the most polished of clothes and looks. Even his casual track suit he sometimes wears when he teaches looks incredibly nice.

Yuuri’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, and a deep red sweater. It’s warm and comfortable, but still stylish, and Phichit said it fit him really nicely, hugging the curves of his waist gracefully. Yuuri can’t possibly see himself looking _graceful_ , he’s more ...round and soft, really, but as Victor’s arm slips around his waist as they walk through the park, Yuuri can’t find it in himself to be bashful. Victor’s touching him because he _wants to_ , and it fills Yuuri up with a confidence he didn’t know he possessed.

It’s chilly outside, and they stop at a few booths, Victor buying him dish after dish for them to try and share, and they talk as if they’ve known each other for years. Yuuri doesn’t particularly believe in soul mates, but if he did, he’s sure it would feel something like this. And Phichit is right, he _does_ get infatuated very easily, but he’s not thinking about that too much right now. All he’s thinking about is the coldness to the air, and how it’s turned Victor’s nose pink, and how nice he looks when he’s laughing, his arm tightening around Yuuri’s waist as he recalls a memory or another about his old coach, and Yuuri is hit with the sudden urge to kiss him.

So, he does.

He stops, right in the middle of the sidewalk, and his shoes scuffle against the concrete as he turns towards Victor, stopping him in his tracks as he tugs on the lapels of Victor’s jacket, pulling him into a kiss.

He’s not used to rendering _Victor_ speechless, so it’s incredibly satisfying when Yuuri pulls back, and Victor has his mouth parted slightly, silent except for their quiet breaths, and Yuuri is still holding onto his jacket, so he loosens his hold, and he’s nervous for a moment, thinks shakily, _did I just make a mistake?_

But then Victor brings his hand up, touches his lips briefly, before smiling and crushing Yuuri to his chest in a hug.

_“Yuuri!”_

“V-Victor…!” Yuuri manages, his face squashed into Victor’s shoulder, and then he’s laughing, shoving Victor away and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, but he doesn’t protest when Victor grabs his hand instead. “We should keep walking… it’s getting a little cold.”

“Oh, let’s go get some hot chocolates!” Victor says happily. His cheeks are still tinted a little pink from Yuuri’s surprise kiss earlier, and Yuuri feels vaguely proud of himself as Victor turns, dragging Yuuri behind him to the nearest cart that sells hot cocoas.

Later, when they’re both sitting on the bus heading back to Victor’s place, stomachs happy full of good food, it’s then that Yuuri realizes _oohhh god_ , he’s actually _going_ to _Victor’s place_.

It kind of just happened out of nowhere, really. It’s late afternoon, the sun slowly beginning to set through the clouds, and Victor had casually thrown out that _it’s getting dark, let’s head back to my place,_ and Yuuri hadn’t even had a second thought as he hummed in agreement, finished the rest of his mochi as they headed to the bus station.

“Sorry, I actually do have a car,” Victor says as they sit close on the bus, their thighs pressed together warmly. “I just hate parking at these kinds of festivals.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says, glancing at Victor through the corner of his eyes, because he feels like if he looks at Victor head on, he won’t be able to look _away_. Victor is captivating in a completely unfair sense, and Yuuri’s even seen heads turning all day today, following Victor’s movements, hanging on his every words as he greeted each and every person who serviced them at the festival. Victor is an all encompassing type of beauty, and Yuuri is just as taken with him as everyone else seems to be, if not more.

But for some reason, Victor can’t seem to take his eyes off of _him_ , and Yuuri thinks about it, hard. It’s not like he’s anything special, really, and he’s come to accept the fact that he’s basically average. Victor is looking at him as if he hung the moon, though, and it makes Yuuri feel _wanted_. It’s kind of an addictive feeling, and as they step off the bus and walk up the stairs to Victor’s apartment, the feeling only intensifies.

The door swings open, and as they step inside, Yuuri is immediately tackled by a large dog, fluffy and warm and licking all over his face, and Yuuri laughs when the dog’s tongue laps at his ear, it’s paws big and warm on his belly.

“Makkachin!” Victor scolds, gently prying the dog off of Yuuri and pulling him aside, kneeling down to scratch at the dog’s chin briefly before standing back up, offering a hand to Yuuri, who’s still sprawled on the floor. “Sorry about that, Makkachin _loves_ new faces.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says, and he’s grinning as he grabs Victor’s hand, hauling himself to his feet. He takes a brief look around, and Victor’s apartment is spacious and clean, everything Yuuri would expect from Victor, except for a small corner of the room that’s a little more cluttered than the rest. It has a few containers full of some sort of yarn or string, and a few half-finished projects are lying above on the floor over there. Victor must see him looking, because he actually _blushes_ just a little, and he tugs Yuuri further into the room, towards the couch.

“Ah, don’t mind that mess over there,” Victor says, and Yuuri tilts his head.

“Do you… do you knit?” Yuuri asks, noting the yarn piles and scraps.

“Macramé, actually,” Victor says easily, and then he’s gently pushing Yuuri onto the couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Yuuri says, and then he’s scooting over shyly, Victor’s eyes twinkling at him as he takes a seat next to Yuuri on the spacious couch. Yuuri allows their knees to knock together, and he feels his chest tighten. “Would you like to watch a movie?”

Victor hums. “Would _you_?”

“Not particularly,” Yuuri says, a mere whisper of air, and then Victor’s tugging him closer, slotting their lips together like they belong there, and Yuuri sighs sweetly into his mouth. It’s suffocating, almost, and Victor makes a noise as if he’s a dying man when Yuuri slides into his lap, and shit, Yuuri’s _never_ been this forward before with anyone, not even any of his past relationships, and as Victor’s fingers dig into his thighs, his other hand, slipping under Yuuri’s shirt to slip against his belly, Yuuri makes a quiet noise and sucks in a breath.

“Victor…” Yuuri says, and there must be something in his voice, some sort of hesitance as he touches Victor’s hand under his shirt, that makes Victor pull back from the kiss and stare openly at the boy in his lap.

“You’re so soft,” Victor murmurs, and Yuuri almost ducks his head, nerves overwhelming him, but before he can self-doubt, Victor’s sliding both hands up Yuuri’s shirt, pressing into the plushness of his belly and sides, the slight love handles at his hips, and he presses a whisper of a kiss against Yuuri’s cheek. “I adore it. I adore _you_.”

“You do?” Yuuri asks, more of a reassurance to himself, really, and when Victor nods, Yuuri feels his heart tug sharply, _happily_. “Good. I… I adore you too.”

His voice is stern but quiet, and Victor positively _beams_ , and Yuuri yelps when Victor tips him backwards on the couch, crawling in between his legs  and palming up his jean-clad thighs. “Have I told you, yet,” Victor starts, darting down to nose up Yuuri’s neck, licking a stripe in his wake. “how great your ass looks in these jeans?”

“You have not told me this,” Yuuri says, slightly teasingly, but his voice is still shaky, still in disbelief and still in _desire_ , and Victor kisses him again, firm and deep. Yuuri feels incredibly young again, full of need and lewd passion, but also something else. Something a tad sweeter, a tad more reserved, and when Victor places his hands on him once more, it’s like he’s tracing paths of fire along his skin through his fingertips.

“Is this alright? Are we moving too fast?” Victor asks, tickling gently up Yuuri’s soft sides just to watch the boy squirm and gasp.

“W-We’re not moving fast _enough_ ,” Yuuri finds himself blurting out, and Victor laughs out loud at that, finally reaching down to thumb the button open on Yuuri’s jeans. He slides his jeans and boxers down his thighs, just enough to free his cock, and Yuuri hisses when Victor palms at the head. Yuuri had a casual thing with someone he met at university a few months ago, but it didn’t feel as good as Victor’s hand does right now, no, not _nearly_ as good.

“Can I taste you?” Victor asks, and _how_ he manages to make such sentences sound so normal, and sweet even, is beyond Yuuri.

Victor looks as if his mouth would be watering, if he were a weaker man, but instead he just licks his lips, kissing the swell of Yuuri’s stomach where his sweater has ridden up.

“Um,” Yuuri says, squirming a bit against the couch. He suddenly sees Makkachin out of the corner of his eye, lying on the floor a few feet from them, and when Yuuri’s gaze locks with his curious little dog eyes, he wheezes and pulls his jeans back up hastily. “Makkachin is right _there_.”

Victor looks stunned for a moment, and then he’s _laughing_ , this big, cheerful sounding laugh, amazed and excited, even, and he’s pressed his face into Yuuri’s stomach as he calms himself enough to speak.

“Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” he says, his voice full of adoration, and then he sighing sweetly and sitting up, noticing Yuuri’s half hard arousal, his jeans still unbuttoned. “Shall we move this to the bedroom, then?”

Yuuri’s only too quick to agree, a giddy feeling inside his chest as Victor grabs him by the hand and pulls him around the corner and down a short hallway to the bedroom. It’s a blur as Yuuri’s gently pushed onto the bed, his jeans and boxers fully removed and his sweater pushed up, bunched around his ribs as Victor thumbs at his nipples, kissing all over whatever skin he can reach until Yuuri’s whining loudly, trying to subtly push Victor’s head lower to where he wants it the most.

Victor chuckles quietly, but obeys, and when the heat of Victor’s mouth envelops his cock, Yuuri nearly screams at the pressure of a warm tongue running under the sensitive head, licking the precome dribbling from his slit.

Victor pops off with a wet noise, spit at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, such lovely noises you make,” he says adoringly, and Yuuri groans and covers his face.

 _“Victor_ , just….” he gasps when Victor slips his fingers lower, teasing his hole with his thumb. “ _Do something_ , please, I….”

“What do you want?”

Yuuri very nearly sobs. _“Anything_.”

“Mm,” Victor hums, and then he’s crawling up to fumble in his bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube before sliding back between Yuuri’s legs, and when he hooks one of Yuuri’s knees over his shoulder, opening him up even more, Yuuri flushes down to his toes at how _lewd_ he feels, and how lewd he probably _looks_. Victor grins up at him. “I’m going to touch you, now.”

“Please,” Yuuri says softly, clenching a hand in Victor’s hair when the older man sucks at the tip of his cock again, while clicking open the lube and coating over his twitching hole. Victor’s quick to toss the bottle aside again and circle his entrance with a single finger before sliding in quick, almost too quick, and Yuuri clenches around him, his cock dribbling a bit more at the sensation.

“Do you touch yourself like this, Yuuri?” Victor asks, his voice low and sharp, and he’s wiggling a second finger in, scissoring him open.

Yuuri groans at the stretch, Victor’s other hand pressing against his hip, keeping him against the mattress. “S-Sometimes - _ah_ \- but …. y-your fingers are much nicer,” he sighs out, and when Victor curls his fingers, teasing his prostate, Yuuri’s breath hitches adorably. “S’good, Victor, y-your _hands_ … _nnnh - !”_

 _“God_ ,” Victor says, pressing his forehead to Yuuri’s knee as he thrusts his fingers in again, almost merciless as they massage the places deep, deep inside of the younger man. “You drive me _crazy_ , ever since I first laid eyes on you. I just knew you’d make the prettiest noises.”

Yuuri’s at a loss for words, at this point, because Victor’s fingers are so _thorough_ , and he has Yuuri going rigid against the sheets, his toes curling and fanning out, his belly heaving with trembling breaths as Victor brings him right to the edge, right _there -_

 _“Victor!”_ Yuuri cries out, his eyes flying open as he reaches down, linking his fingers with Victor’s free hand for something to hold on to. “I’m g-gonna - I can’t, _I can’t, I - oh,_ please, _V-Victor - !”_

Victor is _brutal_ , his pace steady and unrelenting, and Yuuri’s cock is practically drooling by now, a sticky puddle on his lower stomach where it’s pooling, and Yuuri’s _never_ come without some sort of friction, but he swears he probably could right now if he concentrated enough, but his mind has muddled into nothing, and he clenching hard around Victor’s fingers, tugging sharply at Victor’s hair to get him to come _up here, right now_.

Victor follows his movements, and he sighs into Yuuri’s mouth when Yuuri pulls him in for a kiss, his fingers still fucking in and out, curling and rubbing and _touching_ , intimate and wet and warm. Victor drinks up all of the noises and little moans Yuuri lets out, pressing closer against him, their chests touching, their bodies melding into each other, and when Victor’s own arousal, still in the confines of his pants, brushes the length of Yuuri’s cock briefly, Yuuri’s gone.

His back tightens in a sharp arch, his head tossing back into the pillows as he fists the front of Victor’s shirt with both hands, and he swears his eyes roll into the back of his head. Victor brings his other hand down to wrap around Yuuri’s length, milking him through his orgasm, and it feels like it goes on for _hours_ . Yuuri’s never had someone focus so much on his own pleasure before, and the attention is _enthralling_. He wants to drown in it, to curl up in Victor’s gaze and never come out, and Yuuri usually feels embarrassed after orgasming, but with Victor he just feels sated and blissed.

“Wow,” Victor murmurs, kissing cutely across Yuuri’s face, slack with pleasure as he tries to regain his breath, his legs shaking like jelly and forehead damp with sweat. His glasses are crooked, too, and Victor straightens them with a smile. “Absolutely amazing.”

“I should be saying that to _you_ ,” Yuuri pants, and he lets Victor wipe him clean with a tissue from the side table, lets Victor pet his hair before settling down into the bed next to Yuuri, and once Yuuri feels the strength in his body start to return, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before turning over and sprawling on top of Victor. The older man makes a small noise of surprise, and then Yuuri’s sliding down his body, cheeks pink with nerves but his gaze determined, and his mouth practically _waters_ when he cups Victor’s clothed cock in his palm.

“Now,” Yuuri says, priding himself on how little his voice actually shakes, and he clumsily unbuttons Victor’s jeans, tugging them down as Victor stares at him with a mix of shock, lust, and eagerness. Yuuri licks his lips on a small smile, tilting his head down. “Now it’s _my_ turn." 

* * *

 

“Yes! Yuuri, you’re doing so well! Just a little more now, come on!”

Yuuri’s legs are sore, and his feet are throbbing a bit, still not one hundred percent used to the skates yet, but he’s determined, and he’s definitely not as shaky as he was the first time Victor took him on the ice. He’s come pretty far since then, and now he can skate while looking _up_ at Victor, and not down at his feet, and the ice is finally starting to feel familiar beneath him.

He’s on one end of the rink, Victor _all_ the way at the other end, and he’s halfway there by now. Victor’s arms are outstretched, and he looks dazzling with his twinkling smile and mussed up hair from skating a few laps before hand. Yuuri determinedly pushes up his glasses again, wrinkling his nose in concentration, and he glides forward a few more shaky feet, the ice scraping underneath him, and Yuuri’s grown to be quite fond of that noise.

Eventually, after a few more long moments, Yuuri’s fingertips brush Victor’s, and he squeaks when the older man grabs him by the wrists and tugs him forward so fast Yuuri’s _sure_ that they both are going to fall. He’s lucky Victor is so balanced and comfortable on skates, as if the ice is his second home, because Yuuri’s stumbling weight against his own does nothing to deter his stance.

“Fantastic, _lyubov moya!_ You didn’t even stumble or fall once!” Victor exclaims, peppering Yuuri’s face with kisses just to see the younger man giggle and squirm slightly in his grip. He wraps his arms around Yuuri’s waist, gliding them both backwards slowly as he continues to shower his praise until Yuuri’s so pink in the face he’s surprised the ice isn’t melting beneath them.

“Oi!” a voice calls out suddenly, loud and brash, and Yuuri looks to the side, seeing the young blonde student from Victor’s intermediate class. He’s since learned the boy’s name is Yuri (Yurio, Victor sometimes calls him, which the boy vehemently protests against that nick name).

“Ah! My little protégé !” Victor calls out, waving at him, one arm still holding Yuuri against his chest.

Yuri scowls. “Don’t _call_ me that. And stop being fucking _gross_ , and get that floundering _idiot_ off the ice. Class starts in five minutes.”

Victor watches him leave the rink area, and he sighs, turning back to Yuuri and kissing his forehead briefly, his lips cool and soft.  “Ah, we’ll have to continue our lessons another day, I suppose.”

The ice slips easily beneath their feet as Yuuri grips Victor’s arm, letting himself be pulled towards the edge of the rink before stepping back onto the ground, and Victor is quick to push him onto the bench, kneeling down to help untie Yuuri’s skates.

Yuuri blushes. “Victor, you don’t have to untie my skates for me every time we practice together.”

“I don’t mind,” Victor says easily, and then he darts forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of Yuuri’s knee, over the fabric of his pants, with a wicked little grin. “I enjoy being down here, between your legs.”

Yuuri pouts and swats Victor in the side of the head. “You’re incredibly embarrassing, you know.”

“Yes, but you like me anyways,” Victor teases. Yuuri rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile, and Victor carefully slips off his skates, briefly squeezing Yuuri’s feet in his beautiful hands, giving him a short little massage. “Will you be coming over tonight, after your shift ends?”

Yuuri leans down, touches his nose against Victor’s cheek as he kisses him soundly as a single word trickles off his tongue the same exact way it does every time that Victor asks him that question;

“Always.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _lyubov moya_ \- my love
> 
> yo yo yo find me on:  
> [tumblr](http://crunchrapsupreme.tumblr.com)  
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/wecametofuck)


End file.
